


The Adult Plan

by GraceNM



Series: The Mature Plan [2]
Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Christmas Smut, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Sexual Content, WildHorsesWeekend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-02-29 13:52:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18779581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GraceNM/pseuds/GraceNM
Summary: The follow-up to The Mature Plan. Buffy and Angel are ready to start again.





	The Adult Plan

**Author's Note:**

> Written in response to [gianelson](https://gianelson.tumblr.com/)'s request for fluff and smut. Hope you enjoy!

Angel rode the elevator down to his apartment, his heart feeling leaden. He should have been content — he had just helped a teenage girl who badly needed it. But all he could think about was Buffy.

In the hours that had passed since he surprised her on her front porch on Christmas Eve, they had been struggling to find time to be alone together.

“Oh, god, I can’t leave my mom _again_ this year,” Buffy had whispered after they’d kissed each other breathless, right there on her porch.

“So I’ll stay,” Angel answered.

Her smile had broken like the dawn, and he felt a jolt of pain as he realized how often he’d told her just the opposite.

Joyce was clearly wary but not the kind of person to turn away a guest on Christmas Eve. Angel didn’t need an invitation to enter anymore, but he was glad to have it anyway. They made it through a round of stilted small talk before Joyce gasped, catching sight of Angel in a mirror hanging on one of the walls, and then the whole story (well, an abridged version) came out in fits and starts, his words and Buffy’s tumbling over each other.

They were so _happy_ — stealing smiles at every opportunity, always touching in some small way — that even Joyce seemed unable to hold onto her resistance. For Angel, it began to feel surreal, like he was in a dream, or somebody else’s life.

But it was really happening.

He’d left at the end of the evening, after a makeout session on the porch that got just slightly out of hand. He and Buffy hadn’t wanted to part, but they wanted better for their second first time than sneaking around with Joyce in the house.

They’d waited this long, they kept reminding each other, they could wait a little longer. Buffy assured him that she’d come to LA as soon as their Christmas morning festivities were over, but then she’d gotten all caught up in something demony. Angel was thinking about heading back to Sunnydale to help her until his phone rang again. This time, it was Kate, calling about a young woman who needed help moving out of her apartment while her violent boyfriend was gone for a family holiday event. And, well, Angel’s mission was still helping people.

He had been half-hoping that, by some miracle, Buffy would be there when he got back to his apartment, but it was dark.

He stripped off his dirty shirt and boots and opened the fridge. As much as he loved eating now and as hungry as he was, nothing seemed appealing at the moment. He wanted to call Buffy to make sure she was OK, but she’d either be out with her stake or sleeping, and he didn't want to wake her up. It would be better to wait until morning.

Disappointment settled like a weight in his chest. Buffy filled his head, filled his dreams, filled his heart. He had struggled so much in the aftermath of the Mohra demon’s blood, but now that they had found their way back together again, the waiting was torture.

He closed the fridge and walked toward the bedroom. He’d feel better in the morning when he could hear her voice.

He stopped short just a few steps inside the door. There was just enough light to make out her curled-up form under the covers, her golden hair against the pillow.

 _Buffy_.

Oh god. There was a little black dress spread carefully across the chair next to the bed. From what he could see, she was wearing a white t-shirt, undoubtedly one of his.

He made an involuntary sound of surprise and she stirred, opening her eyes. "Hi," she said softly, sleepily. The throaty sound of her voice felt like a full-body caress.

She pushed off the covers and sat up. "What time is it?" She slid to the edge of the bed, the shirt riding dangerously high on her thighs. He swallowed.

"Buffy," was all he could say.

"When I couldn’t get you on the phone, I decided to come anyway," she said, running a hand through her hair. “Cordelia let me in. I hope that’s OK.”

She looked at him with a small smile, her eyes shining like stars. He was too choked to speak.

“We should probably talk, right?” she said, standing up and walking toward him. “We haven’t really talked this all over. You know, _maturely_.”

In answer, he brought his hand to her face, ran a knuckle slowly along the line of her jaw. Her eyes closed. "Or maybe we could wait," she whispered. Then he tilted her chin up and kissed her.

The touch of their lips set off a powder keg of want denied. She practically crawled up his body and he lifted her into his arms, her thighs wrapping around his waist. Her kisses were relentless and he surrendered completely to her mouth.

Again, he thought he must’ve stumbled into a dream, but he could feel her hot little hands roaming all over him, and there was no way a dream could be _this_ good.

He carried her to the bed, aching and hungry with desire. As good as her silk-covered ass felt in his palms, he needed more. He wanted to touch all of her. He laid her back and bent to slide his hands beneath the white shirt, over her hips and the smooth skin of her stomach to her breasts.

"Angel," she breathed, squirming a little beneath him. He pressed his thumbs over the hardened tips and her hands came up to cover his, increasing the pressure. Her hips moved against the mattress as he massaged her warm, soft flesh. He leaned over until he could take her into his mouth, suckling her through the thin cotton and nipping with his teeth as her hands moved into his hair.

She moaned and then pushed him gently away, getting to her knees on the bed and stripping off the t-shirt. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her bare torso to his as she kissed him. She nibbled along his jawline. He was sliding his hands down her back. "Oh," she sighed into his ear. "Why did we wait so long?"

He held her tightly, fiercely. “I’m sorry,” he whispered back. “I know I hurt you. But, Buffy, the one thing I never doubted, not even for a second, is loving you. I’ve loved you with every breath.”

And he thought maybe she was crying, but she was kissing him like a promise and the fire between them burned the pain away. He was lost in pleasure again, her lips and tongue and fingers making his head spin.

She moved her hands to his fly, opening him up to her. Her fingers slid around him and he was suddenly aware of how intensely his heart was beating, how fast he was breathing, how incredibly hard he was. What a wonder it was to be alive.

"Buffy, I have to—I need to taste you." He made her lay down again and pulled the silky fabric of her panties from her legs and away, kneeling at the side of the bed and burying his nose between her thighs.

As he ran his tongue slowly over her swollen flesh, he almost regretted having to breathe. For her sake, anyway. But not for his own. This was like experiencing Buffy in Technicolor, completely outstripping his few cherished black-and-white memories. He worshipped her with his mouth for as long as she could stand and then some, until she was moaning out her release.

Then she practically dragged him back onto the bed — _damn_ she was strong. She could hardly even wait for his pants to be off before she was pulling him down on top of her, urging him between her thighs. And oh god oh god oh god _oh god_ . He rolled them so she was astride him, wanting to watch every movement of her beautiful body as he _finally_ — and then, like a splash of cold water, he remembered.

"We can't."

"What?" she said, surprised. She was heaven itself and they were so, so close. "You...you can't lose your soul, Angel. It's OK."

"No. Buffy, I'm human. We need a condom."

Her mouth fell open in surprise. "How did I not think of that?"

He was hit with a sudden, intense image of a smiling Buffy, belly swollen with his child. He swallowed hard. But that was for the future, maybe. She was still in college, for god's sake. The humanity of it all was going to his head.

She reluctantly pulled away and he felt the loss keenly. Luckily, he hadn't been completely unprepared, and found what he was looking for in his bedside table.

Then he pulled her back onto him. "Let's try this again."

And they did. Over and over and over again, making up for lost time.

There would never been enough of it. But no matter what happened, no matter how soon the end came, they would never, never have to forget.


End file.
